


My Version Of Heaven Is You

by fromfanontocanon



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1814842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromfanontocanon/pseuds/fromfanontocanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Olicity prompts from my Tumblr site. Will no longer be updated. Sorry guys, too much work to move everything here!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daniel/Felicity Double Date with Oliver/Sara

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Double Date. Felicity with Daniel, Oliver with Laurel or whomever. I don't care how you go about it, but please, pretty please, happy ending for Olicity, k?

"Do you come here often?" Daniel asked, pulling the door open for Felicity. As expected, Table Salt was packed on a Saturday night, but the young entrepreneur had been looking forward to this date for a long time and confirmed that his assistant made the necessary reservations.

"You’ve never been here?" Felicity sounds incredulous.

"I’ve heard about it, but it’s hard to get out. Too much work." He raked his fingers through his dark brown hair, and shrugged, flashing her a charming smile. "Didn’t have much of a reason to leave the building until now."

She felt her cheeks flush. ”Well, the Salmon Tartare is amazing,” she said, letting him pull her coat off her shoulders.

"Can’t wait to try it," he said, before turning to the hostess. "Reservation for two, under Kord?"

"Of course, Mr. Kord, we have one of our best tables reserved for you." Felicity noticed how the young redhead straightened her shoulders at the sight of Daniel, a subtle way to draw attention to the cleavage peeking out from her white-button down polo, the top two buttons conveniently left undone. He didn’t seem to notice; his attention completely on Felicity. She felt his hand land gently on the small of her back as they followed the hostess deeper into the restaurant. They wove through the maze of white tablecloths and well-dressed couples to the far end of the room, where lit candles and a view of Starling City’s skyline greeted them. Felicity smiled at Daniel as he pulled a chair out for her, smoothing the grey fabric of her dress down with her palms as she sat down. She kept her gaze on him as he rounded the table to sit across her when her eyes landed on the piercing blue eyes of the man sitting at the table beside them.

_Crap._

Oliver was looking straight at her, a questioning look appearing on his face, followed immediately by his trademark scowl of annoyance.

"Everything okay?" Daniel asked, settling into the chair in front of her.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, absolutely.” She pulled the wine menu up to cover her face. “I’m just _really_ craving a glass of wine right now.” Or a bottle. Maybe two.

"White okay?" Daniel lifted two fingers up to a server nearby.

"Absolutely," she lied. She always preferred red, but she wasn’t feeling particularly picky tonight. Alcohol was alcohol, and judging from Oliver’s very pissed off expression, she was going to need a lot of it.

 _Please don’t come over, please don’t come over,_ she chanted to herself, shifting nervously in her seat.

"Felicity?"

She cringed at the sound of his voice, but calmly set down her menu and met his eyes. “Oliver, hi.” Her palms suddenly felt cold and moist, and she wove her fingers together and leaned her chin on them.

“Good to see you’re feeling better.” The coldness of his tone sent shivers down her spine.

She nodded. “ _Much._ ” Her hand reached back to undo a knot that she could swear suddenly appeared on her shoulder.

Okay, so maybe lying about her evening plans earlier was _not_ the smartest move.

"Were you not feeling well earlier?" Daniel asked, eyeing her and Oliver curiously. "We could have rescheduled."

"Oh, I’m fine. Must have been, like, a two-hour bug," she replied, smiling at her date. "Daniel, this is Oliver. Oliver, Daniel."

Oliver grinned, but the fist he was making, turning his knuckles white, was a clear indication of how he was _really_ feeling. He flexed his fingers and met Daniel’s hand in a firm handshake.

"It’s nice to meet one of Felicity’s friends,” Oliver said, emphasizing the last word.

Daniel winced as Oliver’s grip on him tightened. “Ditto.” His voice was low and strained, and Felicity threw Oliver a look that commanded him to loosen his hold. He complied, releasing Daniel’s hand, still smiling. The _jerk_.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Daniel said, massaging his fingers. As though realizing what he said could be misconstrued negatively, he put both hands up defensively. “All good things, don’t worry.” He laughed apprehensively, placing his hands down on his lap.

"That’s funny. I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you," Oliver said with a chuckle, his eyes meeting Felicity’s. She cringed. _Great,_ she thought. The Oliver Queen she knew was replaced by his less likable alter-ego—the obnoxious, billionaire playboy.

This was going to get worse before it got better.

"Where’s that wine?" She released a small laugh, scanning the room for help. Or the emergency exit. Really, either would do.

“But hey, that’s easy enough to fix. Mind if we join you?” Oliver didn’t wait for an answer as he signaled to a server nearby.

"Um…yeah…of-of course," Daniel stammered. "Why not?"

Felicity’s eyebrows narrowed. “We?”

"Ollie? Oh, hey Felicity." Sara dipped her chin at Felicity in greeting, a warm smile on her face. Without thinking about it, Felicity jumped up and threw her arms around Sara.

"Sara! You’re here!" She exhaled in relief as Sara’s arms wrapped around her. "Help," she whispered into her friend’s ear. Sara patted her back reassuringly, before pulling away and flashing her a sympathetic smile.

"I’m Sara," she said, when Felicity sat back down, holding out her hand to Daniel.

"Daniel Kord."

"Nice to meet you."

"We’re joining Daniel and Felicity for dinner,” Oliver informed her.

Sara clasped her hands together excitedly. “A double date! Fun!”

Felicity threw her a look and mouthed the word, “NO,” but Sara just smiled and winked at her. “This is going to be an evening to remember,” she promised.

* * *

_This is going to be an evening to remember._

Felicity ran Sara’s words through her head as she stared into the mirror of the ladies’ room. The evening had definitely taken a turn for the worst, with Oliver using every opportunity he could to make Daniel feel incompetent.

 

_"Why are you drinking white wine? You hate white wine." Oliver pointed out, raising his voice to make sure Daniel would overhear._

_His face fell. “You don’t like white wine?”_

_"Um, I do. I prefer red, but you know…I mean, I like wine, period," she babbled, throwing Oliver a dirty look before pointedly picking up her glass and gulping down a third of what was inside. "And this is really good wine," she complimented Daniel. "Certainly better than anything Oliver’s ever ordered."_

_"Hey, at least I’ve never ordered anything that could kill you." Oliver brought his own wine glass to his lips and took a sip. "I know to ask my date if there’s anything she’s deathly allergic to." Daniel shrank at the reminder that he had ordered them a salad with walnuts._

_"You’re right, I should have asked. I’m really sorry about that, Felicity." It was his tenth apology in the last half hour._

_"Hey, it’s nothing," she assured him. "No harm done. Trust me, my life’s been in danger before," she said, gritting her teeth and glaring at Oliver._

_"This is SO much fun!" Sara had commented, leaning into her chair and grinning from ear to ear. "So much better than what I expected when Ollie picked me up tonight."_

 

Felicity had excused herself shortly thereafter, rushing to the bathroom to have a silent conversation with herself in the mirror.

"Just get through dinner," she whispered to her reflection. "You can do this, Felicity. If you can survive Slade, you can survive dinner." She pressed her fingers into her temples.

"What, you mean you’re _not_ having fun?" Sara’s amused tone echoed in the small bathroom. Felicity turned to the muscular blond leaning on the wall nearby, arms crossed in front of her chest, a smirk playing on her lips. "Shocker," she said, biting her lower lip playfully.

"Well, at least _one_ of us is enjoying the evening,” Felicity said dryly.

"I’m _loving_ it,” Sara admitted. “I mean, when Ollie said ‘Table Salt,’ I thought, ‘bo-ring.’ But then you showed up and my night went from ho-hum to oh-la-la.” She rubbed her palms together, her eyebrows dancing up with each syllable. She pulled her lipstick out of her purse, reapplying a light pink shade to her lips, before turning to Felicity. “I can fix this, you know.” She rubbed her lips together to spread the color evenly. “I can make your evening go from this to…well…what it’s meant to be.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “You’ve been sitting there, letting Oliver make Daniel feel two inches tall all night.” She held out her thumb and index finger to prove her point. “And _now_ you’re telling me you know how to fix this?”

Sara shrugged. “You’re just so cute when you’re flustered,” she said sheepishly. “Well, cute-er.” She ran her fingers through her curls, fluffing her hair, before turning back to the IT genius. “But seriously, I can fix this. You’re just going to have to trust me. You can do that, right?”

She narrowed her eyes at Sara. “That depends on what you’re going to do.”

" _Trust me_ ," Sara repeated, winking at her and walking out the door.

* * *

"Daniel, since you’re heading downtown, I don’t suppose you could give me a ride?" Sara asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes at Felicity’s date.

"Sara, you don’t live downtown," Felicity pointed out.

"Well, Sin called and seems really upset about… _something_ …and I just want to make sure she’s okay.” She turned to Felicity and mouthed the words “trust me” before facing Daniel again. “Please? She’s like my little sister and it would mean _so_ much. It’s out of Ollie’s way, and you know, with global warming being such a big issue, I just really can’t have that on my conscience,” Sara drawled. “The gas and pollution and all.”

"You’re an _assassin for hire_ ,” Felicity thought, but bit her lip to keep from saying anything aloud.

"Um…yeah," Daniel nodded. "Sure. Right after I drop Felicity off…"

"I can do that," Oliver offered immediately. He turned to face her, his eyes pleading with her to accept. She looked at Sara, who was nodding slowly with a knowing smirk, and then to Daniel, who was looking more confused as the night went on.

"Yeah, it’s fine. Oliver can take me," she agreed.

"You sure?" Daniel asked, disappointment evident in his tone.

"I’m sure," she assured him, reaching out and giving his arm a squeeze.

"Okay," he agreed. "I’ll call you."

"Yep," she nodded, letting him lean in and kiss her on the cheek. She sighed as she watched them walk away. "Well, you’ve had your fun. I lied. You got back at me. Pat yourself on the back." She turned to Oliver, who suddenly looked ashamed of himself. He buried his hands in his pockets before tilting his head towards the door.

"Come on, I’ll take you home," he said in a soft voice, the real him emerging. He held the door open for her and followed her out of the restaurant.

"What were you even doing here with Sara? You know she hates this place." Felicity remarked, gesturing to the building behind them as they stepped out into the cold, night air. "You couldn’t have just taken her to Big Belly? Just a tip, Oliver, when you plan a date for a girl, you might want to actually bring her somewhere she’ll enjoy."

A beat of silence, and then Oliver cleared his throat. “I didn’t plan the date for Sara,” he murmured, placing a gentle hand on her elbow and spinning her towards him.

"What? So who did you—" Her jaw dropped open as it hit her. She thought back to earlier in the day, when he approached her at the Foundry.

 

_"Hey, I was thinking…if you’re free, we should get some dinner tonight." He had shifted his feet, looking uncharacteristically nervous, as he stood before her._

_"I’m…actually not really feeling that well," she had replied, wincing as though she had a migraine. "I think I’m just going to go home."_

_"Oh…yeah, okay." He had looked disappointed, but nodded and muttered something about feeling better before getting back on the Salmon Ladder._

 

He pressed his lips together, eyeing her carefully. “The reservation was already made, so Sara agreed to come.” He scrubbed his hand over his chin. “I was a jerk, earlier, and I’m sorry. But when I saw you with him, I just…I stopped thinking straight.”

She wrinkled her nose. “When do you _ever_ think straight?” She cocked her head and smiled to let him know she was teasing.

"When it comes to you, _never_ ,” he admitted, the truth of his words slamming into her and making her knees feel like jelly.

"I didn’t like that version of you in there," she confessed. "I’d never go out with _that_ guy.”

She looked up to see him smiling at her—a smile that reached his eyes—the one that let her know she was looking at _him_ —the real him; the one he let so few people see.

And if she was being honest with herself, the one she loved so damn much.

"Felicity," he whispered, reaching out and placing his hands on her cheeks, leaning his forehead against hers. "The best version of me is the one that has you by my side."


	2. After An Explosion in Felicity's New Company...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: After an explosion at the new company Felicity works at, Daniel and Oliver run to her to see if she's okay. She jumps into Oliver's arms even though Daniel has been her boyfriend for the last 6 months. Give angst!!!

Two days before, he had had a close call. He walked into the Foundry bruised and bloody, but alive, and she held him a little bit longer than usual, burying her head into his shoulder and letting quiet tears of relief fall down her cheeks as Oliver raked his fingers through her hair, repeating the same words in tender, hushed tones: _“I’m okay. Hey, Felicity, I’m okay.”_ She took her time cleaning his wounds that night, offering him a small smile when he brushed her tears away with his thumbs. They sat without words as she worked, needle and thread handled as proficiently in her hands as a bow and arrow in his.

After, she had gone home to lie in Daniel’s arms, her head on a different set of shoulders for the evening, another set of arms enveloping her; his lips covering hers in kisses both passionate and gentle; his voice asking her about her day, inviting her to talk to him, to share the parts of her life that he knew she still kept from him. The smell of his aftershave had seeped into her sheets, reminding her how often he spends the night at her place. She breathed in the scent of him, wanting to savor the familiarity of it, of him, and felt her heart sink at the realization that after six months, _this_ —this relationship they had built, the routine they had fallen into, the feel of his skin against hers—still felt foreign to her; temporary in a way that had made it difficult to commit like she knew Daniel had.

Which was why, when the explosion hit and the two men had shown up to check on her, she had found herself in Oliver’s arms. She hadn’t stopped to think about it; didn’t even register Daniel standing a few feet behind him. She met Oliver’s eyes, noted the relief in his features, and felt her body relax as his arms wrapped around her, his lips pressed into her hair, words muffled and incomprehensible to everyone but her:"I’m here. You’re safe."

"Hey, you okay?" He had pulled her away long enough to examine her face, his fingertips tracing a few cuts caused by falling debris on her forehead, and then sweeping her hair out of her eyes, an act both simple and profound that made her feel completely at home.

"I’m fine," she answered, finally realizing Daniel was standing right behind him, a confused look plastered on his face. She let Oliver go and stepped to the side, and into her boyfriend’s arms. He held her tight, and pressed a kiss into her forehead before putting his arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the building.

***

"You’re not staying the night?" Felicity gave Daniel a puzzled look, as he leaned his muscular six-foot-frame against her door, hands buried into his pockets. When he said he would take her home, she hadn’t realize he meant he was dropping her off, and then leaving her. She didn’t want to be alone, not after the day she had.

He swallowed, before closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, she noted that they were moist, as though he was fighting tears. She stepped towards him, her hand reaching out and weaving her fingers into his. “Hey,” she said softly. “What’s wrong?”

He gave her hand a squeeze, before pulling away and wiping his eyes. “You know, when I found out about the explosion, I thought, ‘God, let her be okay. Just let her be okay. Don’t let me lose her’ And Oliver showed up and figured out how to get to you, and I thought ‘Thank God, I’m not going to lose her.”

She nodded in understanding. “You didn’t. I’m right here.”

He shook his head, eyes darting away from her. “Yeah, actually I did. Or maybe I never really had you.”

She could feel what was coming next, and she found her voice breaking as the question tumbled out, her tone suddenly pleading. “Daniel, what are you talking about? I’m right _here_.”

“I ran into a burning building looking for you. And when I found you, it was to watch you run into _his_ arms.”

"I didn’t see you," she argued, taking a step towards him, her voice louder now. He wasn’t being fair. There was smoke, and screaming, and chaos everywhere.

 _“You weren’t looking for me!"_ he yelled. "You were in trouble, and you needed help, but you weren’t looking for me. You were looking for _him_.” Daniel moved closer to her, bitterness and anger and sorrow etched in his features. “You’ll never see me standing in front of you, begging you to love me, so long as Oliver’s in the picture. And I’d ask you to choose, but today, you did.” He took another step towards her, his lips pressing into her forehead one last time. “I love you, Felicity, but you love Oliver,” he whispered into her ear. When his eyes met hers again, he added, “And he loves you.”

She watched him walk away, silence filling her apartment, tears streaming down her face. Another failed relationship. Another attempt at normalcy down the drain. She took a shower, changed into her pajamas, and crawled into a bed that still smelled like him when the doorbell rang.

"Hey, just wanted to check up on you," Oliver said when she opened the door. He scanned the room curiously. "Where’s Daniel?"

She threw the door open, a wordless invitation to come in. Oliver accepted and stepped into her space.

She bit her lip and sighed. “He broke up with me,” she confessed, collapsing into her sofa as Oliver closed the door.

" _Today?_ "

Felicity threw him a look that said “I don’t want to talk about it.” He kicked off his shoes, grabbed the remote control, and settled into the space beside her, draping his arm around her and pulling her into him. His finger played with a lock of her hair, as he murmured, “He’s an idiot.”

She nodded, her eyes meeting his for a moment, before turning back to the television.

Felicity didn’t tell him what had become abundantly clear to her at that moment, with his arms around her and his scent making her want to inhale deeper. Pressed into Oliver's side, it became clear that Daniel Kord wasn’t an idiot. He was smarter than either of them gave him credit for.


	3. Oliver sees Felicity buying lingerie and he freaks out because he knows she's using it on Daniel.

"Hey, isn’t that your executive assistant? Former, I mean." Thea asked, pointing to inside the lingerie boutique she and Oliver were standing outside of.

They watched as Felicity held up a sexy black number at the same time as Oliver took a drink from his nearly empty coffee cup. Watching her delicately finger the see-through lace and then hold it up to her body was enough to send him into a coughing fit, coffee sputtering out his mouth. He used the back of his hand to wipe his lips.

Thea eyed him with an amused expression. “So I guess the rumors _were_ true,” she said mischievously, a smirk on her face.

“ _Thea_ ,” Oliver said, shaking his head, his index finger coming out in front of him. “The rumors are _not_ true. We’re just friends.” Stealing one last look at Felicity, he made a concentrated effort to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “She’s buying that for someone else,” he said, before pulling his sister away and in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

"Need anything else?" Felicity asked, turning off her computer monitor, and swiveling in her chair. Digg and Roy had left for the night—the former to his very pregnant wife, the latter for a date with Thea.

"Um…yeah…there’s a report of some liquor store robberies in the Glades I was hoping you’d look into," Oliver said, walking over to her.

She frowned and crossed her arms in front of her. “I know you don’t have much faith in the SCPD, given, you know, why we do what we do, but I think they can handle a liquor store robbery.

"Robberies. Plural. They’ve hit two in the last week, and the next time, someone might get hurt," Oliver pointed out, reaching over her and switching her monitor back on.

"Yes, but in the last robbery, the owner said he thought it was a teenager wearing a ski mask, and all that was taken was a six-pack of beer…plus, the gun they found on the scene wasn’t even real, it was a bb gun. I hardly think we’re looking for a hardened criminal here."

"All the more reason to nip this at the bud." He rubbed the back of his neck. He was floundering, and he knew it.

Felicity threw him a look.

"Okay, fine." His hands flew up in defeat. "Maybe we can just get something to eat then," he suggested. He was grasping at straws—anything that meant spending just a little bit more time with her; anything that kept her from heading home and changing into a little something that she may or may not have purchased earlier.

She rose from her chair, running her hand up and down his arm quickly. “Raincheck?” 

He gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded weakly. His throat was dry at the realization that he was completely powerless to stop what was going to happen next. Add to that, he now couldn’t keep himself from imagining how amazing she would look in lingerie—and out of it.

“You and Daniel have plans?”

Felicity picked up her bag, and Oliver noted a light pink shopping bag peeking from within. Yep, definitely purchased.

“We do,” she said, smiling at him. “See you tomorrow?”

He nodded again, trying to will himself to say something like “have fun,” but he was too intent on secretly wishing her the worst sexual experience of her life with Daniel Kord.

"If that kid turns to a life of crime, it’s on you,” he called out, his eyes tracking her as she walked away.

Felicity waved her hand without looking back. “I’ll figure out a way to live with myself,” she answered with a laugh.

Good for you, Oliver thought. It was then that it hit him: it was this mistake he couldn’t quite figure out how to live with. This was the _real_ lie that he struggled with, day in and day out. He was head over heels in love with her, and now that he was ready to tell her, it was too late.

Good thing for Oliver Queen, he had a lot of experience with being late. In fact, he had a reputation built on it.


	4. Daniel Asks Felicity Out In Front of Oliver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel asks Felicity out in a date in front of Oliver, she says yes, Oliver treats her bad after it, when she asked him why, he end up asking him not to go out with Daniel + the love kiss prompt from the Olicity Hiatus Project.

Kord Industries was one of the first companies Felicity lined up for Oliver to talk to with regards to getting Queen Consolidated back. She had repeatedly stressed its importance when they went over the details of the plan, leading to an extra late night after one of their simpler missions went off without a hitch.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that Oliver was running late this morning, but she couldn’t help feeling annoyed anyway. She checked the clock on her phone again. Nothing. No call or text. No indication where he was. Typical. He wasn’t exactly the poster boy for good communication skills.

Finally, Oliver’s face popped unto the screen, along with the ringtone she had assigned just for him. She pressed the digital icon to accept the call, and placed the phone to her ear.

“Where are you?” she demanded, placing a hand on her forehead.

“I need you to stall him. I’m—“

“I swear Oliver, if you say you’re running late, so _help me_ —“

“I’m almost there—“

In the background, she could hear the familiar roar of his motorcycle, beeping cars, and yelling drivers. She groaned. “You’re on your motorcycle? Are youcrazy? Why didn’t you take your car?” She pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes as she imagined what his suit must look like.

“Bike’s faster,” he said curtly. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

The line went dead, and Felicity sighed, pulling her tablet out and checking the numbers she and Oliver had gone through the night before.

“You’re…not Oliver Queen.”

She looked up to see a young man looking at her, lips turned up at the corners. Tall and lean, with short, wavy, chestnut hair parted to the side, he was wearing a crisp, perfectly tailored dark blue suit paired with a striped grey tie. His green eyes tracked her curiously as he rounded the conference table and stopped in front of her.

“You’re…” She narrowed her eyes at him and put her tablet down. “ _Not_ Ted Kord.”

He shook his head and laughed, offering her his hand “No, I’m afraid my father was called away on some last-minute business with some partners in Austria. I’m Daniel Kord.”

“Ah, the prodigal son,” she said, smiling as she shook his hand. “I’m Felicity Smoak.” She pulled her hand back to her side. “Oliver’s running behind this morning, but I just got off the phone with him and we should be expecting him shortly.” She tapped her finger on her thigh and pursed her lips.

Daniel pulled a chair out and gestured for her to sit. “Can’t say I’ve ever been this pleased that one of my appointments is late,” he mused, taking a seat beside her.

She felt her cheeks flush, and turned away so he wouldn’t notice. “I have some of the numbers Oliver prepared, if you’d like to go through those now,” she offered, pulling out some files and placing them on the table in front of him. As she reached out to open it, Daniel’s hand came out, fingertips landing on the top, closing it shut again. With a grin, he slid it to the center of the table, before leaning back into his seat.

“Actually, why don’t we wait for Oliver before talking about business?” he suggested. “I’d really much rather talk about you.”

* * *

“I’m here! Here,” Oliver took a deep breath as he stepped into the conference room. Felicity was laughing at something Daniel said, not nearly as angry as Oliver imagined she would be at his tardiness.

She turned to the door at the sound of his voice and cringed, as she pretended to adjust an imaginary tie on her neck, her eyes wide, throwing him a look that told him to fix his actual one. He nodded and adjusted his tie with a smile. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got…held up.”

He offered his hand out, just as Daniel swiveled in his chair. Confusion washed over him as his eyes landed on the younger Kord.

“Oliver,” Felicity said, standing up, her hand brushing his arm lightly. “This is Daniel, Ted Kord’s son. He just returned from getting his MBA from Harvard. He’ll be stepping in for his dad.”

Oliver nodded slowly, gripping Daniel’s hand in a firm handshake. “Right. Nice to meet you.”

“Queen Consolidated and Kord Industries have done some great things together, Oliver. My father and yours were very good friends, and…” Daniel looked at Felicity. “Felicity and I were just talking about how important it is that Kord Industries be a part of returning you to your rightful place at the head of Queen Consolidated.”

Two hours later, Oliver was shaking Daniel’s hand, thanking him for his input and time. As he and Felicity headed out the door, Daniel cleared his throat.

“Oliver,” he said tentatively, looking straight at Felicity. “Mind if I have a word with Felicity?”

“Of course,” Oliver said, plastering on a fake grin through gritted teeth.

Felicity gave him an appreciative smile, before letting Daniel lead her a few feet away, while Oliver turned to face the door, his back to them, rubbing an imaginary arrow in between his fingers to calm himself, the frustration that was peaking within forcing its way into the surface. He listened, jaw clenched, while Daniel Kord asked Felicity out. He heard her accept and give out her phone number, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation, vowing never to be late again. And when she returned to his side shortly thereafter, he smiled politely, before opening the door and following her out of the room.

* * *

“That went well,” Felicity commented cheerfully, as she and Oliver strolled into the Foundry.

Diggle and Roy were on the training mats, sparring.

“You gonna be able to afford all our salaries again soon?” Diggle teased, throwing a towel over his neck, taking one end and wiping his forehead. Roy walked over to his nearby water bottle and took a swig.

“It’s going to be awhile,” Oliver replied bitterly, pulling his tie off and chucking it across the room.

The distance between Felicity’s eyebrows narrowed as she watched the tie fly to the opposite end of the foundry, finally landing on a box of spare arrows. “What are you talking about? Daniel said he thought we could get things moving fast.”

Oliver scoffed. “I don’t think he’s interested in helping _me_.” He was glaring at her now, but she refused to shrink under his stare, instead puffing her shoulders up and out, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means, I think he was too busy mentally undressing _you_ to really focus on anything _I_ was saying.” Oliver barked, shrugging his suit jacket off and throwing it over the armrest of the nearest chair. His eyes turned back to her. “Which isn’t really surprising given what you’re wearing.”

Roy and Diggle winced, as Felicity looked down at the sleeveless, fitted grey dress she had on, bewildered. She had worn it countless of times before.

She glowered at him. “ _Excuse me?”_ Her voice was much louder now.

“You couldn’t have dressed more professionally for this meeting?” Oliver demanded.

“You were twenty minutes late!” she snapped, taking a step towards him.

“Like he even noticed!” Oliver yelled back.

Roy scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. “Didn’t she wear that dress when she was your EA? You didn’t seem to have a problem with it then,” he observed.

Felicity threw her hands up. “Thank you, Roy!”

Oliver turned to his protégé, jaw clenched, index finger held up as a silent warning not to take a side. Well, a side that wasn’t Oliver’s, anyway.

Felicity scoffed. “Oliver, if you don’t want me to date this guy, you might try, ‘ _Hey Felicity, I’m jealous. Please don’t go on a date with him_ ’ instead of acting like an obnoxious ass.”

Silence. Oliver froze. He opened his mouth to respond but ended up closing it again. Her lips were pressed into a straight line, eyebrows lifted up, daring him to deny it. He looked away, shifting his feet, and burying his hands in his pockets.

Roy placed a hand over his mouth to stifle his laugh, a reaction that earned him a slap at the back of the head from Diggle.

“We’re going to go…give you guys a moment,” Digg offered, grabbing the younger man by the elbow and dragging him out of the room.

“Green is _not_ an attractive color for your personality,” she pointed out when they were alone.

Slowly, Oliver lifted his eyes, meeting hers, anger gone and replaced with earnestness. “Getting Queen Consolidated back means nothing if I lose you in the process,” he said in a soft voice.

She tilted her head questioningly. “And you think me going on one date with this guy means you’re going to lose me.”

“I—“ he started. He inhaled slowly but let the breath out quickly. “I think if he saw 10 percent of how amazing you are, he’d make smarter choices than I have.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned herself on her table for balance, sure that her knees wouldn’t hold her up if he kept looking at her _that_ way…and definitely not if he kept talking.

“I think he’d move fast to make sure he doesn’t lose you,” Oliver continued, taking a step towards her, never breaking eye contact. 

“I think he’d tell you he loves you the moment he realizes it, which, _believe me_ , is probably going to be the next time he talks to you.” He stopped in front of her, dipping his chin slightly, eyes still locked with hers. “I know that from experience.”

She let out a small laugh, trying to suppress the smile that was making its way to the surface. He placed his hands on her neck, his face now a few inches away from hers. “And I think that once he kisses you, he’ll do everything in his power to make sure he _never_ has to stop.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, gently first, and then with growing intensity when he felt her respond, her mouth moving in perfect sync with his; a promise of forever exchanged between them. Her arms wrapped around his neck, while his hands slid slowly to her flushed cheeks.

When they simultaneously got up for air, he brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, and smiled. “I know _that_ from experience _now_ , too,” he whispered, before leaning in and kissing her again.


	5. The next time Oliver tries to tell her he loves her...

"Not this time," Oliver said.

Felicity scoffed."Why not?" she demanded.

"Because this time, he knows the truth," Oliver replied softly.

"What are you talking about? It was a ruse. You offered me up as bait. I'm pretty sure that proves I'm not the love of your life. If Slade wanted to get to you, I'm the last person he'd go through."

He grimaced. "Is that what you think? That I don't care?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, of course you care. I mean, that's so not the point right now. The point is that nothing has changed. He overlooked me then. If anything, I'm safer now."

"I still wake up with nightmares of how everything could have gone so wrong with that plan," Oliver confessed, taking a step towards her, shaking his head. "I still remember the blade on your throat. I've never hated myself more."

"Oliver, can we just stop with the self-pity? This is hardly the time..."

"No, this is exactly the time. Because apparently, without the threat of Slade taking you away from me, I can't seem to manage to face the truth." He stopped a few inches away from her. "I can't have you in the middle of this again. I can't have Slade anywhere near you, because he isn't going to wait for me this time. He'll kill you, the first chance he gets. Because I led him straight to you." He reached out and placed a hand on her cheek. "And if that happens, he'd win, because he would have killed the woman I love the most."

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him, before jerking her head away. "Whoa. Deja vu."

"Felicity--"

"Nope, not this time. I'm not falling for that again."


	6. Kiss in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss in the Rain prompt for the Olicity Hiatus Project

When Oliver, Diggle, and Felicity are ambushed on the way back to Queen Consolidated, the two men put into effect a plan that was three years in the making, first drafted the night Oliver had climbed into Felicity’s car and invited her into his secret life.

Hours later, safe in the Foundry, the yelling had begun. Felicity was livid, angrier than Oliver had ever seen her. He had jumped out the car to distract the gunmen, giving Diggle time to get her to safety. She was kicking, screaming, crying for him, but Diggle was nothing if not efficient.

It was the end of her tirade, a five-minute monologue that detailed all the ways he was reckless and selfish and impossible to work with.“There’s no I in team, Oliver,” she said caustically, bitterness so palpable. “What is wrong with you? _Do you think it’s all about what you want? What you think is best?”_ She was inches away from him, two fingers poking his chest, jaw clenched.

At first, he had absorbed her outrage, letting the accusations hit him without even attempting to defend himself. But that last question triggered something deep inside—she was questioning the one choice he knew was always the right call.

"No, it’s about _you_!” he yelled back. “Yes, I made a choice. I chose _you_. I will _always_ choose _you_!”

He brought her into this, and whatever the cost, he would protect her. Diggle knew that. Agreed with it. Formulated a plan with him to that end: Felicity came first. Always.

She moved back at the impact of his words, mouth wide, eyes narrowed at him. Then she was stuttering. “Y-you mean us, right? Rrr-right, Oliver? You meant you will always choose me and Diggle?” Her eyes searched his, pleading for the truth. “Oliver!” It had never occurred to her the plan was to save her, and only her.

He wanted to say her name, and his lips parted to that end, but no sound emerged. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, gritting his teeth in anger directed at himself for losing control.

The wall had come down, waves of relief and fear coming at him at the same time, now that she was standing in the space where he hid the truth. He took a step back, trying to center himself, because “I love you” danced at the tip of his tongue, and there was no way that he could deny, again, just how much he meant it.

“I just love these non-conversations we keep having,” she said tersely, each word like a knife cutting into him. Her head flicked to the side for a moment, eyes darting away from him, and she swallowed, noting it did nothing to ease the dryness in her throat. Wanting to be as far away from him as possible, she spun around and stomped towards the door.

_Follow her._

He extended his finger and thumb across his forehead, pressing them into his temples, palm rubbing against his hairline. Follow her. His feet were moving before he could consider the alternative; before he could talk himself out of it, before he could weigh the consequences—enumerate all the reasons—why this was a bad idea. Because she was walking away from him, again, and every time it happened, he feared she would never come back; that he had finally pushed her over the edge. And no version of losing her was acceptable.

As though the sky was as angry as she, thunder roared around them, rain pouring down. Biting cold met him as soon as he exited the Foundry, and he placed his hand over his eyes to shield them from the water attacking the earth, trying to track her.

“Felicity!” he yelled, and he knew she heard him, but she didn’t stop moving. It didn’t take long to catch up with her, grabbing her elbow and spinning her around, his hands cradling her face. She was crying—eyes red, tears streaming down faster than the rain could wash them away.

“I meant _you_ ,” he whispered.

And then his lips were on hers, filling in the blanks to everything he didn’t have the words to communicate; erasing the line they had both drawn in the sand years ago, revealing a smooth canvas where they could finally transform years of possibilities into reality. Nothing could have prepared them for the impact of that kiss—the softness of her lips on his, the way their mouths fit perfectly together, the heat that emanated despite the cold drops of water advancing upon them.

“I love you,” he murmured when their lips part, thumbs stroking the skin on her cheeks. After three years of fighting against the possibility of this very moment, he had lost, but he had always known that this was a battle he was bound to lose.

Her fingers reached out, brushing the stubble on his cheeks, as she gazes up at him. “I love you, too.”

He smiled at the realization that this was inevitable. Loving her in silence was never sustainable.

All roads led here, to this moment, and this kiss; to Felicity.


	7. Awkward Team Arrow Conversation When Roy Assumed Oliver and Felicity Were Together and Broke Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Awkward team arrow conversation takes place when Roy (who assumes Oliver and Felicity were together at some point) asks why they broke up.

"Dude, she was bound to start dating again sometime."

Oliver and Felicity both looked questioningly at Roy.

"Well that’s an interesting way to get them to stop fighting," Diggle crossed his arms and nodded in approval.

Roy shrugged. “I just mean, I think we can handle one night with Digg manning the computer while you,” he pointed to Oliver. “And I—” His thumb flew to his chest. “Work out our aggression issues constructively. You can pretend you’re beating up Felicity’s date, I can…well, I don’t need any extra reason to be aggressive, if I’m being honest…” He pursed his lips and raised both eyebrows at Oliver. “Coz it would be nice to get out of here, you know…now.”

Oliver tilted his head sideways, eyes narrowed at Roy. _"What are you talking about?"_

His protege sighed, before rolling his eyes. “Your aggression over Felicity going on a date.” He released the statement like it was the most obvious reason in the world. “Did you really expect her to stay single forever? I mean, eventually, people move on from a break up.”

Digg covered his face to hide his snickering, stopping for a moment when he saw Oliver, only to erupt again into peals of laughter at his friend’s bewildered expression.

"Ah, the missing piece of the puzzle," Felicity said, sinking back into her chair. She turned to Oliver, who still hadn’t figured it out. "He thinks we broke up," she explained with a sigh, leaning her cheek against her knuckles.

Oliver’s jaw dropped open. “Broke up? How can we break up if we’re not even dating?”

"Well, you’re not dating now. _Obvs_.” Roy adjusted the zipper on his suit. Oliver looked at him, eyebrows still drawn together. “That means obviously,” Roy informed him. ”I forget how old you are.”

"We’ve _never_ dated,” Felicity interrupted, turning her attention back to her computers. “I don’t know where you’d get that ridiculous idea.”

"Wait…you guys haven’t _ever_ been together?” It was Roy’s turn to look confused.

Felicity crossed her legs, fingers flying over the keyboard. “That’s what never means, Roy,” she drawled, sounding uninterested in continuing the conversation.

"Why would you think that? Do you even pay attention to what goes on around here?" Oliver asked, pulling his hood up and heading for the table where his bow was. "Felicity’s welcome to go out with whomever she wants, it would just be nice to be told ahead of time so we’re not left hanging…" he trailed off, contempt in his tone. "I don’t know, I guess I just have old-fashioned ideas of what it means to be a team.”

Felicity turned around to face him, a huff of exasperation escaping her lips. “Oliver, I told you two days ago. It’s not my fault you don’t listen,” she said, rising from her chair and stomping towards him. “Maybe if I were updating you on the stats of the latest hockey game, you’d remember.”

Oliver clenched his jaw. “I think I would remember if you told me you weren’t planning on being here tonight,” he replied, a little louder than necessary. “Maybe you told Digg. Or Roy.”

She pressed her lips into a straight line. “I told _you_ ,” she repeated tensely, two fingers poking into his chest. “This is what happens when you don’t listen to me!”

Oliver threw his hands up in defeat. "Well sometimes it’s hard to tell which conversations I’m supposed to be paying attention to!"

"How about paying attention to everything I’m saying? I listen to everything you drone on about, even those stupid Starling City Kings!”

Oliver’s jaw tightened. “You did not just call the Kings stupid. Are you _seriously_ attacking hockey right now?”

Roy turned to Digg. “Really, and I’m the one not paying attention?”

Digg clasped his hand over the younger man’s shoulder. “I know, man. _Believe me_ , I know.”


	8. Oliver Gets Injected With Truth Serum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said: Prompt: Oliver has been injected with a truth serum and tries to avoid Felicity all day until the serum runs out

"Where’s Oliver?" Felicity swiveled in her chair and pulled out her bluetooth.

Digg rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s…”

"Avoiding you," Roy blurted out, yelping when Diggle hit him on the arm. "Dude, I got hit too. It’s not like I can lie as easily as those of us who stayed in the van." He rubbed his arm, throwing Diggle a dirty look.

Felicity dipped her chin slightly, peering at the two men over the rim of her glasses. “Hit?”

"Truth serum," Roy replied at the same time as Digg said, "Bullet graze."

"Ow!" Roy grabbed the back of his head that had just made contact with Diggle’s palm.

“This is why I told you to go straight home,” John muttered.

"What? I don’t understand why Oliver would be avoiding me just because he got hit by truth serum."

Roy rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, I guess you are a dumb blonde after all.”

Felicity exhaled loudly, before nodding at her best friend. “Digg,” she said.

"Ow!" Roy grabbed his other arm, eyeing Digg’s retreating fist with disdain. "Guys! What the hell? Truth serum!" he yelled.

"Truth serum just means you’re saying what’s on your mind. It doesn’t affect what you think, so you’re _actually_ thinking I’m a dumb blonde,” Felicity pointed out.

“Well you are dumb if you can’t figure out why Oliver would be avoiding you.” Roy informed her, holding an arm up to block Diggle’s next blow. He looked up at the older man triumphantly. “Hah! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home before you do any more damage,” he said pointedly in Digg’s direction.

As Felicity watched Roy leave, Digg approached her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Felicity, about what Roy said…”

She patted Digg’s hand reassuringly, turning sideways to meet his eyes. “I don’t ask questions I can’t handle the answers to,” she says with a shrug. “Truth serum or not, the last thing I want to hear is the finality of Oliver telling me he sees me like a sister. I mean, that’s just not going to be healthy for my self-esteem.” She gave him a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, before picking up her bag and walking out of the foundry.

Diggle looked after her dumbfounded, groaning at the realization that she really had no idea. And, for once, Roy was actually right.

Sometimes, Felicity was a dumb blonde after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (DISCLAIMER: I, in no way, think blondes are dumb AT ALL so hopefully no one is offended by the way I wrote this prompt).


	9. Tomboy Chic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said: Quote prompt for you, Hon: "Is she wearing Oliver shirt?" (maybe said by Laurel)

"It’s tomboy chic," Laurel explains, holding a dark blue chambray button-down polo over the width of Felicity’s shoulders. "With a pair of leggings and some loafers, you’d look adorable."

Felicity bites down on her lip and nods. “It’s not my usual style, but yeah, why not? I don’t want to be overdressed. I mean, it’s not like it’s a date. It’s just two friends seeing a movie and getting some dinner.” She grabs the shirt and heads to the counter to pay for it, looking over her shoulder. “Tomboy chic sounds perfect,” she says with a smile.

The next day, Felicity walks into the Foundry wearing a much bigger version of the blue chambray shirt, rushing to a locker that holds some of her spare clothes.

"Hey, how was the movie?" Diggle asks, looking up from the magazine he’s reading.

"It was okay," Felicity answers, clearing her throat, looking in his direction for a second before resuming her search.

Laurel swivels in her chair. “Worth the price of the ticket?”

"Hmmm." She presses her lips together and bobs her head up and down enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically, even for Felicity.

Diggle folds his arms, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “What was it about?”

Her eyes flicker sideways, refusing to meet his. “Some good guys going after the bad guys. Spoiler, the good guys win.”

He throws her a skeptical look. “Did you guys ever get to the movie?”

The blush that spreads over Felicity’s cheeks says no.

"I don’t remember that shirt being that big yesterday…" Laurel trails off, tilting her head questioningly. She jumps up, her mouth agape. "Oh my god, is that Oliver’s shirt?”

Felicity turns even redder, before straightening her shoulders and replying weakly, “um…it’s tomboy chic.”


	10. Ride With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Oliver and Felicity on Oliver's Motorcycle.

“Uh-uh. No way.” Felicity folds her arms and glares at Oliver. “I’m not getting on that thing.”

Oliver sighs, dipping his head sideways and throwing her a look.

“Felici-ty,” he begins, lingering a little longer than necessary on the last syllable, “I think we’ve faced worse dangers than what my motorcycle has to offer.”

She narrows her eyes at the helmet he holds out, scowling as she pushes it away, her body language communicating depths of defiance he recognizes all too well.

“Yes,” she huffs in annoyance, bringing a finger to her lips. “And if the villain of the week doesn’t kill you, that will.” Her hand flies out, gesturing to his two-wheeled vehicle of choice. “Do you know what I find interesting?”

He opens his mouth to offer a suggestion before realizing it’s a hypothetical question.

“Since I’ve met you, I’ve come to discover an array of fears I didn’t even know I had.” She holds up a fist, fingers coming up as she enumerates the current list of things that keeps her up at night, thumb popping up first. “Apparently, I’m afraid of heights, needles, indestructible super soldiers, and motorcycles.” Wrinkling her forehead, she adds, “Although, to be fair, indestructible super soldiers was always on that list way before I knew they existed.”

He throws her another look, more amused than the last, lips curling at the corners as he attempts to stifle a laugh. “ _Fe-li-ci-ty._ ” 

“The world is a dangerous place, Oliver,” she continues, playing with the sleeve of her jacket. “And I’m not taking on any more risks than what comes with, you know…” She stresses the last two words like she shouldn’t have to explain further, but the look he wears of looking far too entertained makes it clear that she does. With a roll of her eyes, she mutters, “Being bait for a serial killer or being held hostage by a drug dealer. So the answer is _NO_.”

Guilt flashes on his face, as quickly as a flame that flickers in the wind, and then it’s gone and by the time Felicity has turned back to him, he’s smirking, brows lifted high up into his forehead.

“Hey, is there a villain of the week we haven’t put away?” he asks playfully. “Besides, whatever happened to you believing in me?”

Felicity huffs in exasperation. “I believe in you." She frowns, stretching her neck sideways, eyebrows drawn together to let him know she’s measuring her response. “Unfortunately, I also believe in the 8.9% probability that we’re going to die if I get on that thing.”

Another loud sigh escapes Oliver’s lips. He rubs his hand over his head rapidly in frustration, before getting that “screw it” look that Felicity knows all too well. He takes a step forward just as she tries to take one back, but he’s faster, which of course he would be, given the five-years-of-training-to-be-a-superhero background. She doesn’t expect the helmet to land so gently on her head, but Oliver’s always been good at finding control when it comes to her. His breath feels warm on her cheeks, hands gripping both sides of the helmet, holding her head steady underneath the layers of plastic and styrofoam. His fingers stay frozen there for a few seconds, his gaze telling her to trust him before he bothers to use words.

They’ve gotten very good at non-verbal communication.

“Contrary to the number of times I’ve used the excuse, I’ve never actually been in a motorcycle accident,” he argues with an easy smile. She pouts as he adjusts the straps underneath her chin. “It’s going to be fun. What’s life without a little danger?”

She glowers. “You don’t think we live life with enough danger? Next time I need a ride, I’m asking Roy to come get me.”

Oliver scoffs as he throws a leg over his bike. “Sure, call the guy who’s actually been in a car accident,” he says, strapping his own helmet on. “Get on.”

She takes a deep breath as his hand reaches out, releasing it just as her fingers land on his palm. A sense of calm settles into her bones when his grip on her tightens, providing the balance she needs to slide into the space behind him. She lets out a soft squeak as her arms wrap tightly around his torso, pressing one side of her head flatly between his shoulder blades.

She doesn’t admit that she’s not quite as scared as she was two minutes ago, now that she’s huddled up next to him; won’t confess him that she does feel safer; that the anxiety that caused her heart to speed up earlier is fading, her pulse slowing to its normal rhythm because she _trusts_ him. She won’t admit any of it, because he has that cocky grin on his face that she has an intense love-hate relationship with, and she won’t give him the satisfaction.

And just because he can’t help himself, Oliver tilts his head backwards and says, “Felicity, hold on to me tight.”

* * *

 

The first thing that catches Oliver completely off guard is how much he loves having Felicity’s arms around him.

Her fingers are digging into his brown leather jacket, hugging him tightly, and while he knows it probably stems from fear, he's also aware this could develop into an addiction. 

The second thing that hits him hard is the sound she makes—the moans that are, unfortunately, audible over the roar of the engine. She relaxes a few minutes into the ride, finally loosening her grip on him, pulling her head up to look at the scenery. Relief fills him. He thinks he’s finally in the clear.

And then she starts talking.

“Okay, so this is better than I thought it would be,” she yells into his ear. “You’re really good at this!”

He laughs because in his dreams, imagining Felicity wrapped around him, body pressed up against his, yelling “you’re good at this”  happens in completely different circumstances. The _opposite_ of platonic circumstances.

“The vibration feels a little weird.” Her breath tickles the back of his ear. “Is it going to feel weird when I get off? Does it feel weird for you?”

The visual he now has is overwhelming, and he swerves hastily to avoid a blue sedan. “I’m a little busy, Felicity,” he shouts irritably, turning his head slightly towards her before facing forward again, trying to focus on the road ahead.

“You were the one who said you wanted me to have fun. I’m trying to have fun riding—“ The honk of a car horn interrupts her, drowning out the next word so that what Oliver hears next is “you.”

_I’m trying to have fun riding you._

He chokes out a cough, grateful that he can see Diggle’s apartment building in the distance.  Rolling his motorcycle up next to the sidewalk, he turns the engine off, and pushes his leg down on the kickstand, letting out a long breath meant to curb his overactive imagination.

Felicity uses his shoulders to climb off, a wide smile on her face as she removes her helmet. “Okay, I admit it. You are really good at that,” she drawls, nibbling her lower lip. “I mean, it is surprising how much fun that is.”

Oliver nods slowly, trying not to match a completely different scenario to her words. She hands him back the helmet as she fluffs out her hair. “I never thought I’d have that much fun on my first time. I now completely understand what all the fuss is about, ‘coz that was amazing Oliver! You were amazing!” Her eyebrows quirk up, eyes sparkling the way they do when she’s excited about something. “It’s mind-blowing how exhilarating that felt! And you knew exactly what to do—which move to make…”

He groans, catching himself before she notices and pretending to clear his throat. “Right. Well, I told you it’s not as dangerous as you think.” He returns her grin. “You can ride me—I mean, _with me..._ with me, anytime,” he stammers, sucking his lips in and pressing his mouth into a thin line.

She beams at him, a bright smile covering half her face. Her hair is tousled from the wind, her cheeks flushed from the cold, and she’s looking at him with satisfaction, proud over having done something different and risky and so unlike her. It makes Oliver want to explore other ways to get her to look like she does right at this moment.

“Come on, I can’t wait to see the baby,” she says, turning on her heel and heading towards the door.

As he stares after her, it becomes abundantly clear: he needs to sell the damn motorcycle.

It’s much, _much_ more dangerous than he thought.


	11. Ultimatums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't easy to watch the woman you love with another man...(Prompt was: Felicity and Ray get serious. Oliver hurt/reckless)

It isn’t easy watching the woman you love with another man.

He realizes this the first time he sees them together. He doesn’t want to feel threatened, but confidence seems like a lofty dream when he first notices the connection between them. She’s standing next to someone who’s got quite a reputation with women, and who’s giving her his undivided attention. They’re both focused on her tablet, and when she turns and meets his eyes, she flashes him a smile that he returns immediately.

They’d make a cute couple, he thinks, before shaking his head at the thought. Because he’s in love with her, and he wants to be on the receiving end of one of those smiles.

He misses her. She’s busy and days pass when they don’t see each other. He understands, of course he does. He’s decided early on that he’s going to be the bigger man. She’s worth it. One day, he shows up at her work with lunch, only to find her sitting on the floor of her office with the same guy, shoulders touching as they lean against one end of the wall, a deep discussion about—he doesn’t even know, because he leaves before they notice him; before he can overhear the flirting that is clearly going on based on their body language.

Bitterness invades every muscle in his body and he works out a little harder at the gym, trying not to answer all the questions now swirling through his mind. He wonders if they’ve ever slept together. Whether they’ve kissed. How much of herself she’s shared with someone who isn’t him.

He picks a fight with her that night, can’t remember over what. But it’s impossible to stay mad when she cocks her head and gives him her “really, you’re going to be an ass about this” look. He apologizes, profusely. Blames it on nerves about some project in Queen Consolidated. When she goes in for a hug to let him know they’re okay, he wraps his arms around her more tightly than he ever has in the past, breathing in her scent and letting himself have this. For a short, perfect moment, she’s his.

It only gets worse. He sees them getting closer together. Notices all the little things. The way her hands linger on his forearm (he wonders if she’s conscious of it), the way they whisper into each other’s ears (the giggling—wait, she giggles?), the longing gazes from across the room, and lately, his fingers reaching out and playing with her ponytail when he’s standing behind her. All the details that tell him there is more than friendship at play.

He’s losing her. He panics at the thought. Every day, he feels the current that shifts the sand, the anchor’s grip on the surface slipping. He knows as he watches them that this isn’t a battle he’s going to win.

How can he?

It isn’t just how she deeply she clearly feels about another man. It’s that he knows without a doubt the feeling is mutual.

It’s why he ends up in that bar, getting piss drunk before hurling enough insults to invite a brawl so epic, he’s one day going to tell his grandchildren about it. He wants to replace the ache in his chest with sharp, physical pain. Something a painkiller can dull. Something that can be fixed the way this can’t. He ends up in the hospital with seven stitches above his eyebrow, two bruised ribs, and bloodied knuckles. He doesn’t know how she finds him, but knowing Felicity, she tracked his phone. He hates how relieved he is to see her. That he still desperately clings to any sign that she cares about him, loves him even.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Her eyebrows draw together as she frowns at him.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he replies, his jaw clenching involuntarily. “You’ve been busy lately.”

Her expression softens, and she sighs with a tilt of her head, taking his hand in hers. Her thumb rubs circles over his wrist. He squeezes his eyes shut at her touch, knowing this is what he wants for the rest of his life and that he’ll never have it.

“I’m never too busy for you,” she whispers earnestly. Her blue eyes shine with affection, and he can feel his resolve fading.

But he’s tired and he’s decided he has to do this. He thought he could be the bigger man, take the higher road…all the damn clichés that comes with selflessly loving somebody who’s fallen for someone else. But he can’t.

He releases a jagged breath. “I need you to choose, Felicity.”

Her thumb freezes where it is, eyes move slowly to meet his.

He clears his throat. He knows what he’s asking, how much he’s asking, but for once, he’s putting himself first. If his past has taught him anything, it’s that self-preservation can be a beautiful thing. Surviving sometimes means hurting others. And if he doesn’t do this—if he lets himself fall any deeper, he won’t survive losing her.

He turns his hand up to intertwine their fingers. Knows it’s the last time he’ll have the chance to hold her hand. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t. Felicity, it’s him or me.” His voice is even, his tone firm. It’s not open to discussion. He’s done playing the martyr.

Her eyes flicker sideways. “That’s not fair.”

“You’re right,” he agrees with her. “It hasn’t been fair for awhile.” He curls an index finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. He needs her to understand how much she’s hurting him, even though he knows she doesn’t mean to. “It isn’t fair to me, and you know it.”

She starts shaking, her grip on his hand tightening. “Please don’t do this,” she begs, her voice cracking with emotion.

“I want you to be happy,” he confesses, hoping she can hear the truth in his words. “And for a long time, I was angry that I wasn’t the one who made you happy…but now—“ he shakes his head and presses his lips together, trying to hold the bitterness at bay. “Now, I just don’t want to be the guy who stands in the way.”

She looks at him in shock, her mouth parting in confusion. Fresh tears roll down her cheeks as she shakes her head. “You are so important to me,” she finally says, lips still trembling. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“If that were true, you’d choose me.” He slides himself off the gurney, folds his jacket over his elbow and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “And we both know that you won’t do that.”

He makes his way out of the room, pausing at the door. He knows she knows, but he needs to say it anyway. He’s hoped for a lifetime worth of opportunities to repeat those three words (he’s never meant them more than when he first said them to her) but he doesn’t get to have forever with her. He gets this. Right here. Right now. And he has to take it.

“I love you, Felicity.”

She nods, a small smile on her lips. “I know,” she replies softly.

Ray Palmer winces, the pain in his ribs momentarily distracting from what he’s about to do next. He looks towards the deserted hospital corridor and wills himself to take another step, out of the room and away from her.

It isn’t easy to walk away from the woman you love, he thinks to himself, as he drags one foot in front of the other, moving towards a future without her.

He doesn’t get to have forever with her. But he sincerely hopes, with every unselfish bone in his body, that Oliver Queen does.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really curious what people think of this one...let me know if you have the time!


	12. Comfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If she made a list of everything she wanted in a relationship, all the little details would add up to Ray Palmer. And she wishes it were that simple, like charting an algorithm for a computer program. Because logic and reason play to her strengths, and she and Ray make sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because puzzledhats brought up John Mayer's "Comfortable." I wrote this to fill a prompt...but then I forgot what the prompt was and couldn't find it, and then I had this conversation about that song, and this came out.

Ray Palmer came out of nowhere.

She thinks this to herself after she pulls away from their first kiss.

She wishes she’d met him three years earlier. If she had, this—the two of them together—would be easy. Because he’s handsome, and intelligent, and witty, and accomplished. Pretty much the definition of the perfect guy. She has thoroughly explained this to herself.

She can feel the envious glares from other women when they walk into a room together, even as his eyes only track her. She doesn’t ever wonder how he feels about her. He’s always made it abundantly clear. This is what it’s supposed to be like, being in a relationship.

The only speech he’s ever given her is how much he wants to be with her. A girl could get used to that.

They’re good together, she reminds herself. Conversation is easy with him. She asks questions, he answers them with words instead of brooding silence. It’s refreshing. Or so she tells herself.

He reaches for her constantly. She loves that his fingers weave into hers at random moments throughout the day, not just after life-threatening experiences. Loves that his arms wrap around her waist to pull her closer to him. He doesn’t push her away. _Ever._

If she made a list of everything she wanted in a relationship, all the little details would add up to Ray Palmer. And she wishes it were that simple, like charting an algorithm for a computer program. Because logic and reason play to her strengths, and she and Ray _make sense_.

He comes up behind her with a cup of coffee, one arm sliding over her stomach to pull her against him, dropping a quick kiss on the nape of her neck. ”Penny for your thoughts?”

She wrinkles her nose as she leans into him, cup warm against her palm.”A penny? I’m an MIT graduate. A penny doesn’t nearly cover my student loans.”

"You know Queen Consolidated is more than willing to pay off the student loans of one of our most promising employees."

"You know it’s really disturbing when you refer to yourself as ‘Queen Consolidated.’"

Ray chuckles. He lets in a deep breath, leaning in closer so that his lips are right by her ear. “Sometimes it seems like you’re right here with me, and other times,” his voice trails off, as he grips her firmly. “I don’t know where you go.” When he thinks he’s losing her, he holds on tighter. She’s noticed that about him. It’s comforting to know she’s with someone who isn’t going to be the one to let go.

She places her cup down on the table nearby, turning around to wrap her fingers around the back of his neck. He’s staring down at her, and the affection reflected in his expression makes her feel _so_ loved.

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, resting her forehead on his chest. Four months earlier, she was in someone else’s arms, and the memory of that hasn’t faded no matter how much she wants it to.

"I won’t do this, Felicity. I can’t." Oliver swallows, shaking his head emphatically.

"I’m fine. I’m _fine_.” Her attempts to reassure him are failing, and she knows from the way he’s holding her that he’s going to let go.

"I can’t," he repeats, an unmistakable tremble in his voice. She feels his grip start to slack. Knows he’s about to release her. It’s why she pushes herself off him and takes a step back, looking up at him and blinking back frustrated tears.

"This isn’t just your choice!" She bites her lip for a second to stop the sobs that want so desperately to escape. "You can’t just keep taking the choice away from me. When is it my choice? When do I get a say?" She’s angrier than she thought as she registers that she’s yelling at him.

His voice is quiet, almost a whisper when he responds, but his words are deafening. “You get a say with someone else.”

Felicity nods, turning so he can’t see the tears that she no longer has the strength to fight, before moving quickly and wordlessly out of the room. She doesn’t expect him to follow her, but it’s impossible not to hope she’s wrong; that she doesn’t know him as well as she thinks she does.

But she’s right, like she usually is. She’s alone when she reaches her car. Her fingers grip the stirring wheel and she surrenders to the violent sobs that mourn the end of them before they ever really began.

When she lifts her head and opens her eyes, Ray is smiling down at her, still holding her, just waiting. She returns his smile, placing her hand on his cheek. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

This makes sense, she tells herself again. This is simple in a way that things with Oliver never were. Her brain is constantly enumerating all the reasons Ray Palmer is the guy for her, like a chant, steady and unrelenting, running on a loop in her head. She gets a say this time.

Except she doesn’t. Not really. Because while logic and reason play to Felicity’s strengths, Oliver plays to her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been here before--where Felicity is. It's simpler with someone else. But eventually, I still chose complicated, because it meant being with the one I love. And that's the choice Felicity is going to make one day.
> 
> Also, I will no longer be updating this collection...I will continue to fill prompts on Tumblr and may move the longer ones to ao3. THANKS EVERYONE!


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